


Texas Is Known for Three Things

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Landry reads to Tim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Texas Is Known for Three Things

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Hafital, I drove to work today with Tim and Landry telling me this story as I tried to navigate the morning rush. And then they started arguing about who would ~~top~~ have the POV. Set post "Nevermind" (1x11).

So, Landry was down in Tim's bedroom, reading _A Separate Peace_ to him because Billy was _wicked_ pissed at Tim about something and had come in into the living room while Landry was almost at the beach scene, and without so much as a by-your-leave, plunked himself down on the couch, picked up the remote, shot Tim a dirty look, turned the TV to _golf_, and when Tim had muttered something about Tiger Woods being Billy's boyfriend, responded by cranking the volume.

Landry stood to excuse himself and go home, but it was kind of fucked, because they really needed to get the book done by Tuesday so that ~~they~~ Tim could be ready for the test on Wednesday, and this was about the only time this weekend that their schedules worked, or else they were going to have to have a marathon session on Monday, so ....

But Tim just flipped Billy the bird, grabbed their glasses of milk -- God, what was it with Tim and milk? Well, not that Landry would ask for a beer, or really know what to do if Tim gave him one, but -- and started heading for his bedroom.

With the door shut, they could just barely make out the sound of the golf announcers, and Landry looked around kind of awkwardly because ... okay, he was no neatnik, but _damn_, Tim's room looked like a twister had gone through it.

Tim sprawled on the bed, leaning up against the headboard, and indicated the space next to him.

Landry gave a sigh, and, ducking the string of Christmas lights that dangled down off the longhorns -- oh God, Tim had fucking _longhorns_ over his bed, could he be more cliche -- settled back in to reading about Gene and Phinneas at the beach while Tim just stared off at ... nothing really. Just bit his lip in thought from time to time as he edged a bit closer, the better to pay attention.

" ... Okay, that about does it for today," Landry dropped the book down onto his chest. "We'll pick up " but he didn't get to complete the thought because his mouth was full of Tim's tongue.

The words were all there in his brain, ready to go, as soon as Tim broke for air. "Jesus, Tim, what the hell you do that for?!" But that's not what came out of his traitorous mouth when Tim finally let up. "Oh ... God ...." And lot lower and breathier than Landry liked, too.

Oh, and somehow that command to throw Tim Riggins off of him, leap out of bed, and fly out of the house? That's not what his body did either. In fact it, swiped the book off his chest, on to the floor and _helped_ Tim in getting them both horizontal, with Tim on top, grinding -- oh DearJesusGod! -- against him, and his left hand ducked up and under Tim's shirt tail while his right helped Tim with the buttons on his fly while Tim cursed button fly jeans and Landry hissed back that these were classics and retro and --

Mrmfhp! His mouth was full of Tim's tongue again, and Tim's mouth was full of _his_ tongue because Landry believed in giving as good as he got, oh hell yes, and then there weren't any more words just grinding, and groaning, and Tim's hand _oh yes just right there like that_ and his hand making Tim make these _noises_, and also the feeling of having a hickey sucked onto his neck just as white lights exploded behind his eyes while his hand filled with something wet and hot.

As soon as Landry got his eyesight back, and gasped in a few raggedy breaths, he saw Tim looking down at him, his eyes glowing with a sort of sleepy-happy light before he rolled off.

Landry laid there and stared up at the loops of Christmas lights, his brain spinning like a car stuck in neutral while the engine was revved.

"Here." Tim pressed something into his hand.

Kleenex.

Bam. His brain shifted into drive and the words came tumbling out. "So - so that's it then. You. You're ... This is Texas, where they have beers, steers and queers. All those rally girls and ... oh my god, it's sublimation. It makes sense now. Yes, Tim, you've totally been sublimating, and I don't know what -- "

But Landry didn't get to finish that statement either, because Tim just gave him this look that said "You're an idiot" and shut him up with another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Continues in [Sometimes It is About Sex](http://archiveofourown.org/works/48722)


End file.
